


Kiss on the Neck

by ladyofthursday



Series: Kiss Prompts [5]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Caring Dean Winchester, Domestic Dean Winchester, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, Injured Castiel, Injury Recovery, Kisses, M/M, hunter husbands
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-22
Updated: 2018-02-22
Packaged: 2019-03-22 16:42:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 952
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13768266
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladyofthursday/pseuds/ladyofthursday
Summary: Castiel wakes up on the couch in the bunker to the smell of apple pie and aching limbs. He's not sure how he ended up here because the last think he remembers is going into a tattered house. Hopefully Dean can explain... that is, if Castiel can get off the couch first.





	Kiss on the Neck

**Author's Note:**

> This is part of a 'Kiss Prompt' series that I'm doing on Tumblr. I've written a few already but there are still plenty available - you'll find the list [here](https://ladyofthursday.tumblr.com/post/168856025692/kiss-prompts/). There are a couple not crossed off (seductive kiss and jealous kiss) but otherwise send me an ask and I'll write one. I'll then add them on here when I get a chance.
> 
> This was for Deanmon69.

Castiel awoke to the smell of apple pie. The soft tang of apples, the spiced nip of cinnamon and the sweet undercurrent of sugar filled his nostrils, bathing him in the delicious scent of home.

The bunker was quiet, except for the gentle clattering sounds of Dean cooking, and it took Cas a moment to place himself. The last thing he remembered clearly was the house - a tattered building with boarded windows, crumbling walls and locked doors. They’d been investigating… something, that much he knew. He was sure the memory would return with time.

He blinked again and realised he was staring at the ceiling, although not the one in his bedroom. Turning his head, he realised he was lying on the low couch in the library. His shoes had been removed, as had his coat and tie, although he could seem them folded on a chair across the room.

Slowly, he attempted to sit himself up. His limbs were aching, and his skull throbbed; clearly someone or something had not been kind to him and he was now paying the price. A small groan escaped his lips as pain shot through his chest, an excruciating twinge shooting through his ribs. Something was clearly broken.

Taking a deep breath, Castiel gripped the low back of the couch with one hand and pulled himself quickly into seated position. He gasped out as pain flared through his torso and his grip tightened on the couch as he attempted to keep himself upright. He sat there for a few minutes, taking deep slow breaths, until the pain had drained away to nothing more than a dull ache.

In the background, he could hear Dean singing quietly – odd snatches of lyrics drifting through the air, still oblivious to Castiel’s return to consciousness. The distinct hiss and spitting sound of meat frying wove itself into mix, so Castiel had to assume that it was close to dinner time, although he couldn’t remember the day.

The library was half in darkness, only a lamp or two lit to keep the shadows at bay. Steadying himself on the couch, Castiel lowered his feet to the floor, the wooden boards cold underneath them. It took some effort and no small amount of determination, but eventually Castiel managed to stand, reaching out to grasp the back of a nearby chair.  

With each step, pain blossomed through his body. Sweat began beading on his forehead. His grip tightened on every chair, every bookcase and every doorframe that he used to balance himself on.

Cas paused at the kitchen door, leaning on the frame to watch Dean work. His hips twitched to the beat of the music playing through his headphones, denim gripping the curves of his ass and thighs. He was carefully cutting sweet potatoes in wedges, occasionally pausing to stir the pan of chilli on the hob, wafting delicious spiced scents towards Cas. The pie was cooling on the side, tendrils of steam curling from the latticed lid. Castiel felt his stomach rumble at the prospect of food. He suspected he hadn’t eaten in a while.

A little smile flitted onto Castiel’s lips as he watched the hunter, warmth filling his heart. Slowly, and as quietly as possibly, Cas crept across the kitchen, hoping to surprise his husband.

Gently he wrapped his arms around Dean’s waist, resting his chin on the hunter’s shoulder. Dean must have heard him approaching, because he didn’t flinch. Instead he used one hand to remove his earbuds, before he returned to cutting the potatoes.

“Hey sweetheart, how’re you feeling?”

“Not wonderful, I have to admit,” muttered Cas, gently pressing a kiss onto the soft skin of Dean’s neck. “I think I’ve broken something in my chest and my skull is throbbing.”

“I’m not surprised,” Dean chuckled, tilting his head away from Cas to expose more creamy skin. “That’s what happens when you fall out a window!”

“I fell out of a window?” Cas said, peppering the skin with more kisses, enjoying the tiny groan that escaped from Dean’s lips. “That would explain a lot. How long was I unconscious for?”

“Probably a couple of hours, you woke up on the journey and then fell asleep. Sammy and I put you on the couch. He’s gone on a supply run since apparently I eat too much!” Dean chuckled, putting the knife down and twisting in Cas’s arms.

“I see.” Cas added, noting the ache in ribs was fading the more he focused on the delicious skin on Dean’s neck. It was a good way to distract himself. “Perhaps we should use this time wisely then?”

“Oh no!” said Dean, raising an eyebrow. “Much as I’d love to take you up on that, you got absolutely pummelled today. Sam thinks you’ve got at least three broken ribs and I’m not doing any more damage.”

“You’re no fun!” countered Cas, leaning for another kiss, aiming to counter Dean’s argument by aiming for that sweet spot under his ear. Instead Dean redirected the kiss, countering it with soft lips.

“Yep, I’m a real asshole. Now go sit down, dinner first and then you’re going to bed. I don’t want you gettin’ ill.”

Cas sighed, knowing when he was beaten. As much as he loved Dean, his husband could be incredibly over-protective sometimes, treating Castiel in the same way that once might treat a child. Eat your vegetables, watch out for that ghost, never point a loaded gun at someone, make sure you get plenty of sleep… it was both endearing and infuriating.

Then again, Castiel thought, as pain once again shot through his ribs as he lowed himself into a nearby chair, maybe Dean had a point this time. Maybe.


End file.
